The Most Unexpected Things
by ladylamaria
Summary: Sometimes the most unexpected things bring people together. Rated for illicit substances, language and adult themes, HG/DM
1. Astronomy

Hermione's bare feet made soft padding sounds as she climbed the stone steps leading to the Astronomy tower. She silently cursed herself for not thinking to wear socks-her feet were growing more numb with each step. When she reached the open room at the top of the tower she crossed over to one of the windows and perched on the sill. She gazed out at the moonlit view of the castle, the lake glittering in the distance, puffs of smoke rising from Hagrid's chimney.

Sighing, she tied her hair into a messy bun on the top of her head, then pulled a pack of Camel Lights out of the front pocket of her robe. She stuck one between her lips and lit it with her orange BIC lighter. She took a few relieved drags before allowing herself oxygen, leaving her a bit light headed. Hermione relaxed as her headache receded and the shakes left her. She hadn't been able to get away from Ron and Harry's insufferable complaining about exams for three days straight. They had begged twice her to stay up late and help them study, but had been so distracted that when she quizzed them each time, they didn't answer a single question correctly.

_ 'They make me so mad... I give them time and effort, and they don't respect me at all! They take me for granted, and they've been doing so for the past six years. I sick of it!_ ' Hermione fumed, inhaling angrily at the thought of the boys.

"Naughty, naughty, Granger... don't you know that smoking is bad for you?" Hermione jumped up from her seat on the windowsill and whipped around to see Draco Malfoy leaning against a pillar, looking at her with an eyebrow raised. She glared at him, then turned back to the view.

_ 'Of course fucking Malfoy has to come and ruin my time. Bloody prick. And I fucking _know _that smoking is bad for me. It's just so good...' _Hermione continued smoking, trying to ignore Malfoy to the best of her ability. Apparently it worked, since when he appeared beside her she jumped with shock. He smirked, then asked, "Could I bum a smoke? Forgot mine."

"Why would I give anything to you? You've been horrible ever since I met you." Malfoy turned toward her, looking like a puppy who'd just been kicked.

"Please? I've had a bloody awful day." Hermione lifted an eyebrow, then offered up her pack. He plucked on out of the box with long, trembling fingers and lit up with an ornate silver lighter, engraved with a snake. He took a long drag, then exhaled through his nose, reminding her of a dragon, albeit a very fragile one. Hermione realizes she had been staring and quickly looked away, pulling her robe together and crossing her arms as the wind picked up.

"What's got your knickers in a twist?" Malfoy asked suddenly, angling his body towards her, tilting his head.

"Why do you care?"

"Calm yourself, I'm just trying to make civilized conversation," Malfoy put up his hands, as if she was about to hit him.

"It's not as if I'm angry, I'm just confused," she explained. "Why on Earth would you try to make civilized conversation with _me_ of all people? You hate me. I'm part of the 'Golden Trio,' I'm from a Muggle family, and I've been getting better marks than you for six years. You've been nasty towards me at every opportunity you've ever had." She put her hands on her hips, looking for all the world like an angry mother.

"Appearances," Malfoy said simply, inhaling smoke, then letting out a series of smoke rings. "You know, it's hard being the person everyone wants you to be. But I think I've done a fairly good job, don't you? Pretending to hate the people I want to be, to be with. It's taxing, though. You start to forget who you really are." He looked out of the window with a frown on his face.

Hermione stared at him. She couldn't understand why he would share this with her, why he would share anything with her, much less something as personal as that had been. She blinked and sat back down, pulling another cigarette out, silently offering one to Malfoy. He shook his head, sitting down next to her. She frowned. This was the closest she had ever been to him. It was unfamiliar territory, and strangely thrilling.

After a minute of sitting next to her, Malfoy stood up and started walking back to the stairs. He paused before he reached them and turned around again, thanked her, then disappeared down the steps.

Hermione sat for a few minutes, contemplating what had just happened. It was perplexing and intriguing, and seemed like the kind of thing to keep to herself. Granted, she didn't tell Harry and Ron much of anything anyway, but this was definitely a private encounter.

By this time she was sure the temperature had dropped a couple of degrees, and she decided to head back to her dorm. She performed a quick charm to get rid of the smell of cigarette smoke about her person, then returned to Gryffindor tower. She stole into her room and slipped in-between the soft flannel sheets of her bed, drawing the canopy curtains together.

Hermione thought back to her first cigarette, stuck between her lips by Lucas two summers ago... then she thought about Lucas. That boy was trouble, but he was the good kind. He had introduced her to the more enjoyable things in life- smoking, drinking, sex, and music. Of course she still enjoyed reading, studying and making timetables, but somehow they didn't hold the same fun as they used to. No one at Hogwarts knew of her preoccupation with the illicit, and that was the way she wanted it to be. She knew that Malfoy shared the same intrests- she had heard the stories- but what would he do if he found out? She wasn't prepared to think about it.


	2. Literature

**A/N: **This is my first fanfic, so sorry if it's a bit rough, but I hope you enjoy! Reviews are appreciated. JK Rowling owns everything except for my plot and new characters.

* * *

The next day Hermione woke up thinking about the previous night. She still hadn't been able to derive any meaning from it, other than that it was utterly strange. Wishing her muggle best friend Samantha was there, she got dressed in the usual school uniform and headed to the Great Hall for breakfast. She sat down next to Harry, who was, as usual, deeply involved in a conversation about Quidditch with Ron. He bade her a quick good-morning, then turned back. She rolled her eyes, grabbing a croissant and pulling a piece of parchment out of her bag. She knew that _technically_ she wasn't supposed to be writing to people in the Muggle world other than her parents, but when the need for advice was present, Hermione would consent to a tiny bit of rule breaking.

_Dear Samantha, _her letter started,

_How have you been? I hope sophomore year is going well so far. Have you heard back from that Tommy guy from the summer? How are your courses going? I was so jealous to hear about that History of Music class you're taking- I wish they offered it here! My courses are all right, if a bit dull._

_ I was hoping you would be able to offer me some advice on a matter involving this guy that I just can't figure out. The situation is that he has hated me since the minute he laid eyes on me, but last night I was out for a smoke break when I met him, and he was perfectly civilized, even nice to me. I don't understand it at all. There doesn't seem to be any logical explanation to it. Perhaps you could shed some light on the situation?_

_ Much appreciated, love forever,_

_ Hermione_

She finished off the last of her pastry while waving the paper gently to dry the ink. Quietly informing the boys that she had to go send a letter, to which they grunted, she got up and walked out of the Great Hall, on her way to the Owlery. She was looking down at the letter, sealing it in an envelope when her shoulder was bumped by someone. She looked up to apologize and saw Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson with matching sneers on their faces.

"Watch where you're going, Granger. Wouldn't want to mess up your hair," Malfoy snickered, Pansy hanging onto his arm, cackling. They set off down the corridor again, and Hermione started reopening the envelope. She sat down against the wall, balancing a book on her knee to use as a flat surface, and added a postscript;

_I saw him in the hallway a minute ago, and he was just as horrible as he had ever been to me. Does that cancel out what he did last night? I'm confused._

When she reached the Owlery she chose a beautiful chestnut brown owl named Argi, her owl of choice since her second year. She fed him a bit of bacon she had gotten from the breakfast table, before tying the letter to his leg with a golden ribbon. He gave her hair a quick peck, then took flight, sailing on the southern wind currents away from the castle. Hermione watched him for a minute, then headed back down to the main part of the castle for her first class of the day.

* * *

"Why do you feel the need to do that? I don't fucking understand!" Lavender was standing in the middle of the dorm room, surrounded by Parvati and Padma, both rubbing her back and making comforting little noises. "You're always the best at everything and everyone knows it, you don't have to go around one upping people all the time! You made me look like a fucking idiot!" She screamed, tears starting to run down her cheeks. Hermione started backing out of the room. She tried to remember what she had done to make Lavender act like this. The twins both looked at her sympathetically and motioned for her to leave. It seemed like the right choice.

There was still about an hour before dark, so Hermione decided to take a walk out by the lake before curfew kicked in. She had always loved the way the evening light hit the water, how the reflection danced on the undersides of the trees that presided nearby. She walked around to the far side of the lake and sat down underneath an ancient oak tree, facing the landscape opposite from the castle so she could have a cigarette. Not many people like going to her spot because it was too far of a walk- about 10 minutes, which wasn't worth it for some. That was the exact reason Hermione loved it, there weren't people around most of the time, so she could be alone.

She pulled out a book and a cigarette, set the book on her lap and lit up, wondering what she could have done to Lavender to make her freak out like she had. She thought back to the classes that she had with the girl-Transfiguration, Defense Against the Dark Arts, History of Magic, and Charms. Ah, that was it. Today in class Professor Flitwick had asked a particularly tricky question regarding the Confundus charm which Lavender had _almost_ answered correctly. Hermione had raised her hand to tweak Lavender's answer. '_I suppose that's what upset her... She was always very sensitive. Maybe she's PMSing,' _Hermione chuckled. _'She should really learn to control her emotions though, she's going to get herself into trouble someday.'_

A hand holding a silver ashtray appeared underneath her cigarette just in time to catch the half-inch long ash from falling into her lap. She looked up, Malfoy was crouching next to her, eyebrows raised. "You should watch yourself. Don't want to start a forest fire," he said, taking a seat next to her.

"I'm not going to start a forest fire. That ash was clearly out," Hermione responded, thinking, _"why does he have to be right?'_

"Safety first, right Granger?" She felt like sticking her tongue out at him, but decided it would be too much of an immature gesture to carry out.

"What're you reading?" He asked, pulling the book off her lap. "Guns, Germs and Steel, I read this! Good book. Do you agree with Diamond's theories?"

Hermione looked up at him in surprise. "You read that? It's a Muggle book."

"I know that. I find that Muggle intellectuals often have real insight into the world, after all, wizards and non-wizards all started in the same place." Malfoy pulled out a box of French menthols, flipping through the pages of the book.

"Well, I agree with most of his theories, and what's interesting is that I see places in the book that coincide with major events in wizarding history," Hermione slowly let out, wondering where this conversation was going, surprised that she was having it with Draco Malfoy of all people.

"Absolutely! I saw that as well. It's refreshing to be able to talk about this kind of thing with someone. I read the book over the summer, and there was no one to talk to about it. If my father knew that I was reading Muggle literature... the result would not be pretty." Malfoy let out a quiet laugh, which didn't seem to have any humor behind it at all. Hermione frowned, then dug into her bag, pulling out a book and handing it to him.

"Here. This is one of the more enjoyable books I've read lately. I think you'll like it. I have to go, um, just give it back when you're finished." She gave him a quick smile, then put out her cigarette and started to leave.

"Granger," he said, grabbing her wrist. She jumped at the sudden contact, and turned around. "Your book."

"Oh, right. Thanks," she said, taking the larger volume from his hand. She walked towards the castle, feeling the ghost of his fingers clasping her arm.


	3. Weekend

**Ch. 3**

**A/N: **Alrighty, so I am really sorry that it's been so long since I updated. School started and I got caught up with all I have to do. I will try to update more often! Thanks for reading, and reviews are appreciated.

Draco turned the page, reading with intense curiosity. The novel Hermione had given him a day ago had captured his attention immediately, the fast paced mystery kept him up through the night. He had sent Pansy away when she came knocking at his door. She had come back an hour later, whining about some girl in her dorm, asking for attention and weed. Draco had turned her away again- she was so unapologetically dimwitted it was painful to spend time with her. The only good thing she provided was a delicious liquor that he couldn't find any where else. She wouldn't even tell him where she got it. It was as if she knew it was one of the only things keeping him with her. What she didn't know, however, was his deep hatred for all the things she represented- bigotry, ruthlessness, and a disgusting set of morals that were in the pureblood world.

Reading Muggle books had become his only way of escape in the past year or so- he could become so involved in them that he could forget about his own pathetic existence. He had known from the time that he was a child that he was not like his father. He could never do half the things his father had done. No, instead Draco was ashamed to be from the family he was, but he couldn't show that. The one time he had told his father that he didn't think torturing Muggles and discriminating against half bloods was wrong, he was beaten and locked away in his room for a week straight. The only contact he had to anything living was with the house elf who brought him food, but who had been ordered not to speak to him. From that incident on, Draco knew that he had to act like he was the same as his family, and he did.

He took the last page of the book slowly- he was disappointed that the story was over, and wanted to prolong it. He supposed he should start the two and a half scroll essay due in Advanced Transfiguration on Monday, but he had the rest of the weekend for that, right? Instead he headed off to the showers- his hair was starting to loose it's freshly cleaned smell, and that's just not acceptable. He decided to take advantage of the special seventh year privileges and take a trip to Hogsmead, but he didn't feel like going alone- maybe he could pry Blaise away from whichever girl he was currently screwing.

Draco went back to his dormitory to extract Blaise who he found snoring softly in his canopy bed, his arm draped over a dark haired girl. "Blaise. Wake up," Draco stage-whispered, shaking Blaise's shoulder. He mumbled something about robot ninjas, turned over and snored louder. Draco sighed, then kicked the bed. "Blaise. Get the fuck up!" He said, no longer bothering to be quiet.

Blaise cracked an eye open, "Dude... really?" he asked indignantly.

"Yes, really. You're going to Hogsmead with me," Draco informed him, "I'll wait for you in the common room, but hurry yourself."

"Alright, alright," Blaise said, rubbing his eyes, then turning to the girl, "Babe, wakey wakey." Draco rolled his eyes, then left for the common room, the sounds of protesting girl getting fainter as he went.

Draco was in the common room skimming through the Transfiguration chapter he was supposed to have read when Blaise came loping down the stairs, shirt rumpled and hair askew. Draco rose and they left out the portrait hole. "What took you so long, man? I was waiting for at least 15 minutes."

"How could I put this politely... Magdalena is very... eager in the mornings," Blaise snickered.

"Very nice," Draco congratulated Blaise, punching him in the arm. "What is she, in Ravenclaw?"

"Yep, 6th year. Smokin' hot, too. She's got a great rack," Blaise said while giving a very provocative look to the pair of Hufflepuff girls who ran down the hall giggling.

"Man, I don't know why you have a thing for Hufflepuffs. They have the most irritating personalities," Draco said, glaring at a few first year Griffindors who were passing by.

"Low self-esteem. They're like ugly girls, but more attractive," Blaise laughed. Once they were in Hogsmead they headed to the Three Broomsticks and took a corner table. Madame Rosemerta slunk over to take their orders, giving Blaise the eye. When she left, Draco raised an eyebrow at him.

"Yeeah, I did."

"Of course. When?" Draco asked, as Blaise eyed Madame Rosemerta's ass.

"Last year, one time when I came in she asked me for some help carrying some bottles in from the storeroom and we ended up fucking on the floor in there. She's good, man," Blaise explained, flashing Madame Rosemerta his toothy grin when she came back to deliver their firewhiskeys. She went away blushing, Draco chuckling. Of course Blaise would have tapped that- he would screw anything with legs. He didn't have to, though, he had his choice of women everywhere he went.

"So, what's this about?" Blaise asked.

"I just couldn't stand to be in that fucking castle anymore. Pansy is driving up the wall. I can't even fuck her anymore because she won't stop talking. 'Draco I want a committed relationship, Draco why don't you get me presents, Draco, stop hooking up with other girls,' I swear to God, it's _endless_."

"I hear you, she's pretty bad. We need to get you a date with someone new... has anyone at school caught your eye? I've heard that Lillian girl in Ravenclaw has a thing for you."

"Yech, no. She has the personality of a sea slug and the face of a buffalo."

"Harsh! You know, with such high standards, you're never gonna get any," Blaise told him matter-of-factly. Draco rolled his eye, then finished his drink.

"You want to go up to the hill?" He asked as they gathered their robes.

"Everyday!" Blaise laughed as they began the climb up the hill behind the bar. They reached a little overhang where a Ravenclaw boy and girl were already sitting. Each pair acknowledged the other, and the first moved over so that there was enough room for all to sit. Draco pulled out a tin box and opened it. Inside lay a glass pipe, a pack of sticky paper, two lighters, and a prescription bottle of weed. "Joint or pipe?" Draco asked.

"Whichever," Blaise replied. "Can I smell?" Draco handed him the bottle. Blaise inhaled deeply. "Damn, that's strong. What is this?"

"Sir Mixalot, I got my friend in California to ship it for me." Draco finished rolling the joint and took the first hit. "It's some good shit," he said, smoke following his words.

The boy and girl got up, "You guys might want to get out of here," the girl said, "Granger's coming up the hill." The boy took her hand and braced her against him as they descended unsteadily.

Blaise look at Draco with raised brows. "What would Granger be doing up here?"

"I don't know, but I'm not leaving on account of her," Draco said, running his hand through his hair, then taking another hit. The top of her head appeared and slowly the rest of her rose, her eyes down as she made sure to not fall. She looked up, eyes dancing over Blaise and landing on Draco. She stopped climbing for a second, but then shook her head and continued. When she got to the top she stood awkwardly, before hesitantly saying hi. "Hey," Draco said, looking up at her. "You want to sit?" he asked, surprising himself. He knew he shouldn't be nice to her in front of other people, but of all his friends (of which their were few), he was glad it was Blaise who was there. Blaise was currently in the process of giving Draco a 'What the fuck?' look, but didn't say anything, thankfully.

"Um, sure," Hermione said before folding herself down into a sitting position. "Sir Mixalot?" she asked, gesturing to the joint in Blaise's hand.

"Yeah, how did you know?" Draco asked, surprised that she knew what weed smelled like, much less different strains.

"I visited the States a while ago and, well yeah. It's pretty good, but I prefer Grand Daddy. You ever had GDP?" Hermione asked, accepting the joint from Blaise.

"Wait a minute. I am having trouble accepting that the only smart one in the Golden Trio smokes," Blaise looked at her with his eyebrows crinkled.

"Yeah, well there are a lot of things people don't know about me," Hermione chuckled.

Draco laughed, then stared at her with a grin. "What?" she laughed, patting down her hair.

"He's just really lightweight," Blaise explained. "Here, you can kill it," he said, handing her the tiny joint. She took the remaining puffs, then put it out on the cold stony ground.

"I don't know about you, but I need music right now," she said, pulling out her iPod. "Jimi Hendrix okay with you guys?"

Draco blinked, then nodded. "How did you get that to work here?" he asked, pointing to the metallic square she had pulled out of the back pocket of her jeans.

"I figured out a charm to make the barrier against Muggle objects ineffective in a 10 foot area around my iPod. I can change it to make the area bigger, but if it gets too big an alert goes off at the castle," she explained which she scrolled through her music selection.

"Damn. By the way, who even is Jimi Hendrix?" Blaise asked. Both Hermione and Draco turned to him with expressions of shock on their faces.

"Who _is_ Jimi Hendrix?" Draco asked incredulously, "Only one of the most important musicians of the 20th century... played his guitar solos backwards... died at 27... wrote Foxy Lady... is any of this ringing a bell?"

"Sorry, sorry! I don't know Muggle music, okay?" Blaise put his hands up as if to fend off Draco and Hermione's disbelief.

"Well, now you will," Hermione said as she selected _Castles Made of Sand. _As Blaise listened his eyelids lowered and he sat completely still. Hermione looked at Draco and nodded. He giggled, and giggled and giggled. It was strange for Hermione to see the usually cool and composed Malfoy in such a state of, well, stoned-ness. She laughed- that's not a word! When the song ended, Blaise opened his eyes.

"As much as it pains me to say this, I like her. She's alright," he said to Draco. Then he turned to Hermione, "I like you. You're alright."

"Thanks," Hermione laughed. _This would be a strange sight, me sitting with two Slytherins getting stoned, _she thought.

_Hahaha, if only Pansy could see me now, getting blazed with Hermione Granger of all people. Goodbye, reputation!_ Draco thought.


End file.
